


Prayers & Proclamations

by readrofbooks (friendlyghost)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyghost/pseuds/readrofbooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas shows up at the bunker after completing the first trial to close the gates of Heaven. He and Dean have words. Post 8x22 but before 8x23, and contains a lot of spoilers. Written as a birthday present for <a href="http://slightlywhirlwindy.tumblr.com"> Devon</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayers & Proclamations

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns around from the stove where he’s cooking dinner. He catches sight of the angel standing a few feet behind him. Castiel looks the same as he always does—dark, messy hair, intense blue eyes, full yet pale lips. He’s still wearing the damn suit and trench coat.

Dean looks at Cas. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at his angel in the kitchen. Cas shoves three boxes and a plastic bag towards Dean. The boxes are white and square, each three or four inches deep. The green lettering on the top reads, ‘Ikeda’s: California Country Market and Pie Shop’.

Dean points at the boxes, a question on his face. “Is that… _pie_?” Castiel thrusts the boxes at Dean again.

“Yes. I also purchased beer and a magazine.” the angel says. “You needed supplies, so I went and got some.”

“Oh, so you decided to do something nice after vanishing on us— _again_.” Dean knows this is a little unfair, but he really could not care any less. He is sick and tired of Cas—and everyone else—abandoning him.

“Dean, that’s not—I wanted to do something nice for you,” Cas begins to say quietly. Dean feels sick. How many times over the past year has he trusted Cas, prayed to him, begged him not to leave again and again. And Cas thinks that _pie_ and some magazines will make up for that?

Dean starts to say something, but a sizzling noise from the stove catches his attention.

“Sonuvabitch!” he curses, turning back to the cooking food. “Just—set the pies and whatever down, and don’t talk to me until Sam is back, understood?”

Cas sets the pies down on a countertop and retreats to the table in the main dining area. He doesn’t understand why Dean is behaving like this. All he wants is to be useful so Dean will need him, but that’s impossible when Dean will not let him.

“Alright, I’m back,” Sam calls out. “I managed to save Cassie, so we have a few hours until Crowley goes after the next person.”

“Hey, Sammy! Guess who stopped by to visit?” Dean replies.  His words are cheerful, but his tone is just the opposite. As Sam enters the dining area, his jaw drops in surprise.

“Cas! It’s good to have you back,” he says. _Dean doesn’t think so_ , Cas thinks. He doesn’t say the words aloud for fear of making his situation worse.

Sam walks into the kitchen and raises his eyebrows at Dean, silently asking why he isn’t talking to Cas. Dean tenses and and mouths, _He keeps leaving us!_. Sam shrugs and looks at his brother, the universal way of saying _so?_. Sam ignores Dean’s glare and points at the white boxes instead. “Cas, did you bring pie?”

Cas nods, even though neither of the hunters can see him. “Yes. There was none at the local convenience store, so I purchased several in the Sierra Nevada mountain range.” He is rather proud of this. After killing the Nephilim, he escaped from Metatron as soon as possible. It was important that the elder angel did not know where Castiel was going next.

“However, I also completed another task while I was—gone,” Castiel says. Too much pain has come of keeping secrets from Dean, and sharing this one might help Dean trust him again.

“You know what? I don’t care.” Dean says, walking out of the kitchen. He is carrying three large bowls of pasta, each with red sauce and a few meatballs. “Go wash your hands, and then we’ll talk about it over dinner.” Cas stands up and goes to the kitchen. Sam is drying his hands off at the sink. Castiel goes and begins washing his hands, standing right next to the younger Winchester.

“I’m sorry about Dean,” Sam says quietly, so quietly Cas would not be able to hear him if they were not standing right next to each other. “He’s been—upset about some things recently, and he’s been taking that out on you, and I know it’s not fair, but—”

Cas cuts Sam off gently. “Sam, it is okay. I believe that I understand why Dean is upset, and I am trying my best to make up for it.”

Sam nods slowly, trying to believe Cas. He knows that _something_ went down in between Dean and Cas finding the tablet and Cas vanishing, he just doesn’t know what that something is. And Dean won’t talk about it—he never does, always having to be so stoic and manly and getting upset when Sam tries to do the same. Sam is convinced that this is John’s fault, making Dean raise Sam and treating his older son like a soldier instead of a human being.

Sam walked out of the kitchen, Cas following close behind. Dean had sat down at the side of the table with two chairs, forcing Sam to either sit next to Dean (and have them both looking at Cas) or sit across from Dean (and have Cas sitting next to him). Sam quickly made an executive decision and sat down across from Dean. No one said that Cas and Dean had to sit close to each other, and it would probably be easier for Dean to look at Sam.

Cas sat down next to Dean without another word. Knowing that Dean was watching him, Cas picked up the fork and began eating the pasta. He was surprised at how good the simple meal was; Cas would never have expected that Dean knew how to cook.

“Dean, this food is excellent,” Castiel says.

“That’s ‘cause I made it,” Dean replies gruffly. “Now eat, you still need to heal.” Sam hides a smile. Dean may be upset at Cas, but he still cares. Their relationship is still salvageable.

* * *

After finishing the pasta, Cas clears his throat. “There is something I must share about my time…missing.”

“Which one?” Dean asks sarcastically. A low blow, yes, but not an undeserved one. “The most recent one,” Castiel answers as if Dean had been asking the question seriously. “Metatron found me and told me that there are trials to close the gates of Heaven, like the trials to close the gates of Hell.”

Sam’s jaw drops open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not,” Cas replies. Dean is impassive; arms crossed across his chest and poker face on. This is probably not a good sign.

“Did Metatron tell you what the trials are?” Sam asks. “And why would anyone even want to close the gates of Heaven?”

“He told me that closing the gate of Heaven would provide the angels with an opportunity to sort out their situation without affecting the Earth. As the situation is my fault, I agree with him,” Cas says.

“And where would you be once the gates of heaven are closed?” Dean says. Castiel knows what Dean thinks the right answer would be, and he knows what Metatron and Naomi think the right answer is, and he knows that those two answers are not the same.

“I…I don’t know,” Castiel answers truthfully.

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything else on the subject.

“What are the trials?” Sam asks, leaning forward eagerly.

“The first trial _was_ killing a Nephilim—the offspring of an angel and a human,” Cas says.

“Wait, but isn’t that impossible?” Sam asks. “How would you even find a Nephilim if one does exist?”

“Oh, Cas found a Nephilim all right,” Dean says harshly. “You found one, and then you decided to kill it, didn’t you Cas? Something else that you can do to screw us over.”

“Dean!” Sam is shocked, more at his brother’s harsh words than at what he was accusing the angel of.

“It was Metatron’s idea, but I was the one who killed her, yes,” Castiel says. Admitting to his wrongdoing is—new, but the knowledge that two other people now know this secret lifts a weight off his shoulders.

“So you just went off and killed a Nephilim, than came back here,” Sam states, interrupting before Dean can get even more pissy.

“Essentially, yes,” Cas says calmly.

Dean isn’t calm. “Do you even care that someone innocent _died_ , Cas? She had a life, and a future, and you took that away with your stupid trial, and she is never gonna get it back,  you hear me?”

Cas simply looks down at the table. There is some truth to Dean’s words—very little, but it is there. Cas may have cared at first, but she is just another sacrifice in the name of the greater good. Something there is always too much off.

“Goddamn, you don’t give a shit, do you,” Dean said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I bet you don’t care that Meg is dead, either.”

Cas looks up sharply at this. “Meg is dead?”

“Oh, so that’s how it is. You didn’t even care enough to see if she was okay,” Dean says cruelly. He knows that he’s being incredibly hard on the angel, and doesn’t really give a shit. Let’s see how much Cas likes being ignored and mistreated, shall we?

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but Dean cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Cas. Now get up, there is no way that you are sleeping on a couch or in the med bay.”

Sam makes a sound. It’s best described as a disastrous combination of a snort, a laugh, and a cough.

Cas blinks, confused. He had been so sure that Dean was about to tell Cas to leave him and don’t come back, and instead it was…this? “I don’t need sleep,” Cas says. A little “lame” as Dean would say, but it’s the first comeback that comes to mind.

“Dammit Cas, it looked like someone had literally ripped your stomach open. I don’t care how fucking angelic you are, no one just bounces back from something like that!”

Sam coughs properly this time, failing to muffle the sound.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” Dean turns toward Sam. “You need sleep too, I don’t care if it won’t help your messed up flu or not.”

Sam doesn’t even bother saying anything and just blinks tiredly at Dean. He’s lost a lot of sleep lately, with being perpetually sick and staying up late to research.

“So…you’re not going to try the pie,” Cas says. He is really proud of that pie; it was incredibly hard to find.

“Not right now. We can have it for breakfast or something, understood?” Dean says. Cas breathes an internal sigh of relief. Dean isn’t so upset that he refuses to eat pie altogether. That’s good.

“Now c’mon, there’s no way I’m letting you wander around the bunker on your own,” Dean stands up and begins walking toward the door, with only a jerk of his head to let Cas know that he’s supposed to come too.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Sam says, raising his arm halfheartedly.

“And you go to sleep right after that, got it? No doing research, I don’t care how godamned urgent it is,” Dean says. Sam might stay up anyways, but now Dean can at least say that he tried.

Cas follows Dean out the door as Sam gets up with a yawn. Dean is being overprotective of Cas, which means that he still cares. That’s good.

* * *

Dean stops in front of a inconspicuous door. “Alright, that’s your room. It might be a little dusty, but not too bad. And I don’t care if you don’t need sleep, that does’t mean you can’t sleep at all.” Wow, Dean should probably get laid. It’s been…how long? Not since way before Purgatory, that’s for sure.

“Dean, I’m confused,” Cas says. Dean turns to face Cas, and _holy shit Dean makes eye contact with Cas okay he can do this eye contact is okay just don’t start eye fucking him whoops too late._

“Confused about what?” Dean asks, voice a little rough—just enough for Cas’s slightly superior senses to pick up on it.

“Earlier, when we retrieved the angel tablet—you said that you needed me. But then, when we you were going to go unbury the demon—you said that you and Sam didn’t need my help.”

Dean’s jaw tightens and Cas watches his throat work. It is several moments before he says anything.

“Dammit Cas, do I really need to spell it out for you?” Dean doesn’t know what the emotions running through his head are. Confusion, hurt, possibly anger, betrayal, comprehension…his head is a mess right now. Well, more than usual.

“Spell what out?” Cas’s head is tilted towards the side in that familiar confused look. God, angels are so damn stupid. Dean is also really bad with anything involving emotions, but that doesn’t count.

“Just because I don’t need your help doesn’t mean I don’t need _you_ ,” Dean informs Cas. “Why is that so goddamn hard to understand?” Dean turns around and begins walking away. He doesn’t see the look of dawning comprehension that slowly spreads across Cas’s face. And even more slowly, Cas begins to smile.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic on Ao3! And my first in a while, actually. It was also posted on [ tumblr](http://rivertams-song.tumblr.com/post/50354523674/happy-birthday-devon) and [Fanfiction dot net](http://rivertams-song.tumblr.com/post/50354523674/happy-birthday-devon). A little short, but I hope you enjoyed!


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